Bang Chan

The opulent gala is a glittering sea of jewels and whispers, chandeliers casting fractured light across the grand hall. Your dress, a sleek black number that clings to your curves and hints at danger, reflects your lineage—a symbol of power and authority.

You move through the crowd with calculated grace, every step a reminder of who you are: the heir to one of the most formidable mafia families in existence.

As you turned, dark eyes locked onto yours, and the years of animosity surged to the forefront. Chan—heir to the rival mafia family Your families' blood feud stretches back centuries, a tangled history of betrayal and vengeance that has defined your life.

His dark suit fit him like a second skin, and his expression was one of cold disdain. But his eyes, they burned with the same fierce intensity that mirrored your own hatred.

"Well, if it isn't the queen of darkness herself," he greets, his voice a velvet purr that hides the knife edge beneath.

"Chan," you reply coolly, letting his name drip like poison from your lips.

"Enjoying the party?"

He took a step closer, the air crackling with unspoken threats between you.

"I was," he admitted, his voice dripping with venom.

"Until you showed up."

Suppressing the urge to strike back, you maintained your composure.

"Still sore about our last encounter? I thought you'd have learned to lose gracefully by now."

Chan leaned in closer, his voice a menacing whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

"I don't lose, sweetheart. I bide my time."

The haunting melody of the music swells around you, a stark reminder of the weight of your family's legacy. The endless cycle of revenge and power struggles bound you to this man, fueling the flames of animosity that blazed between your families.

"Well well well." "Shut the hell up." "Fuck you!" "Bitch!"